


Duncker's Candle

by tielan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The issue of functional fixedness. Or: "<i>Five chance encounters between Steve Rogers and Maria Hill, and one that was very much planned.</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duncker's Candle

**Author's Note:**

> Five + One structure, the other five parts to come.

The third time he goes to visit Peggy, he nearly bumps into someone coming out of her room. As it is, a collision is only avoided by his hands on her shoulders, a swift side step, and someone nearly getting slapped in the face with a bouquet. _Nice one, Rogers!_

“I’m sorry—” He begins, drawing back from the woman whom he’s just assaulted with a bunch of flowers.

“Rogers?”

The voice and face is familiar. Different to the way he’s used to seeing her, with her hair out and loose, and dressed in worn jeans and a casual shirt, but familiar. “Agent Hill?”

She’s frowning, although Steve isn’t entirely sure whether that’s because she wasn’t expecting him or she wasn’t expecting a face full of flowers as she came out of Peggy’s room. As it is, he finds himself stumbling over what should be a simple apology. “What are you doing here? Sorry, that was the wrong—I didn’t—Did I hit you with the flowers?”

He stops because Agent Hill has cocked her head to the side, her lips pressed together in an expression that Steve is pretty sure is amusement. He takes a deep breath. “Let me start this over, okay?”

“Go right ahead.”

“I’m sorry for nearly hitting you the flowers. Did I hurt you?”

“I’ve been hit in the face with rather worse than flowers,” she notes. “And perhaps I should apologise for bruising them?”

Steve looks at the flowers. “They…look okay?” He glances past Agent Hill into Peggy’s room and sees the white head lying limp on the pillow, her eyes closed.

“She fell asleep while I was talking with her,” Agent Hill says. “Guess I wore her out.”

She doesn’t apologise, and the lapse annoys Steve before he reminds himself that he’s not the only person Peggy knows or might want to see anymore. “Will you wait a moment?”

He goes in quietly, pours a glass of water, and tucks the slightly battered bouquet into the glass, then puts it on the table where she’ll see it when she wakes up. When he comes out, Agent Hill is staring at the wall opposite Peggy’s door, her gaze blank and unfocused. “Captain?”

“Do you have a minute right now? Time to grab a cup of coffee?”

Her eyebrows rise, but she tilts her head down the corridor and starts walking without another word. Steve takes that as assent and falls into step beside her, all the way out to one of the dining spaces out in the nursing home.

“Did you literally want a cup of coffee,” she asks as they reach a table, “or did you just want to talk?”

“Just talk. If you don’t mind.”

“And if I do?”

Steve pauses as he realises he’s pulled out a chair for Hill in unthinking habit. And she’s standing nearly on the opposite side of the table with no intention of playing by the courtesies that he’s accustomed to working with in his dealings with the fairer sex. It’s…unexpected. And somewhat piquing.

“If you do,” he says, “you’re not obligated to stay. I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit a national treasure.”

He doesn’t mean to bite back like that. It’s impolite, and hardly her fault that he’s caught between the politenesses he feels is due in conversation with a woman, and the blunt speaking of this woman with whom he’s never held a conversation before.

“That’s quite some bitterness, Captain.” Her observation is cool and dispassionate, but also almost thoughtful. She hesitates, her gaze dropping down to the chair he’s still holding. Then her mouth sets and steels, and she takes the chair and even allows him to push it in for her.

Steve sits down and puts his hands on the table. Time to eat crow.

“I’d like to apologise for my comment about babysitting. It was uncalled for. And I shouldn’t have demanded to know what you’re here for. You’re here to see Peggy and your relationship with her is none of my business.”

“It’s understandable. You feel a possessiveness towards her.”

Possessiveness implies something that isn’t between him and Peggy – that was never given the chance to be between them. “Protectiveness,” he counters.

“Peggy needs protection from me?”

“That wasn’t—” But there’s a gleam in her eyes, a faint shift in her expression, and Steve realises he’s being teased. He chooses his next words carefully. “I’m pretty sure you can be deadly when you choose.”

“Thank you.”

Her smiling gaze slides away, to the outside. It’s almost dismissive in the way it ignores Steve’s presence, and while he’s no Tony Stark, annoyance bubbles up that she can shut him out like that. He nearly sits up and reaches across the table to take one of her hands in his, to claim her attention, to demand her interest.

Steve catches himself. Where did that come from?

Agent Hill shifts in her chair, unaware of his thoughts. Something about her expression catches Steve’s full attention a second before she says, “My relationship with Peggy is…unusual. She sponsored me into S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I thought S.H.I.E.L.D takes its personnel from the Academies.”

“Most of the technical staff, yes. Operations tends to require a bit more life experience – a recommendation from an agent is necessary before they’ll take someone in.” She tilts her head a little when he hesitates. “Spit it out, Rogers.”

“You can’t be that old.”

“Well, we’re all spring chickens when it comes to you.”

“I mean, Peggy came off active duty twenty years ago. You’re not much older than Natasha.”

“Are you asking my age, Captain?” Hill waits a beat, then notes, “Director Carter was technically retired by the time we met. On assignment, but still retired. I encountered her while she was on that assignment and…helped her manage a situation. She was impressed enough with my work that she recommended me for the Academies.”

“Marines?”

“Good guess.”

“Maybe I read your file.”

“If you had, you wouldn’t be questioning why I came to visit Peggy.” Her expression sobers. “She doesn’t always remember me anymore, although she usually remembers that I’m an agent.”

Steve doesn’t wince. Hard as it is for him to look on the elderly woman Peggy has become, how much worse must it be for those who’ve worked with her through the years to see her decline? “I’m sorry.”

“Peggy’s lived a life that only a handful of people ever dream of doing. She created SHIELD, she kept the wolves at bay, and she forged her own path in a time when a woman wasn’t supposed to do much more than marry and keep house.” Hill looks him in the eye, her voice strong, rich with a passion, like deep currents in the ocean. “Peggy left her mark. Yes, this is hard to watch, but she changed the world with what she did. And Peggy will go out kicking.”

Her voice is sure, even as her gaze goes distant, and Steve wonders if she’s thinking of Agent Coulson.

Months later, when ordering her to instigate the program that will destroy the helicarriers, Steve trusts the memory of that conversation: pragmatism, practicality, and the good of the world over the hurt of the heart.

A hard death, yes, but one with meaning.

And he’ll go out kicking, too.


End file.
